Part 8: Alright (3)

Pierre was caught in an endless cycle of dying and reviving in the most gruesome ways.

His head was severed, then reattached.

His torso was split open, then mended.

His heart was pierced, only to be restored moments later.

Aiden’s sheer power was enough to leave Pierre in utter shock.

At some point, he had completely lost control of the fight.

It was absurd.

This land—

Pierre was the undisputed ruler of the Mad Sands.

The idea that a sovereign like him couldn’t even lay a hand on a mere human from the mortal realm was unthinkable. No, it was unacceptable.

By now…

The other sovereigns were probably watching and laughing at his predicament.

His pride had been crushed beyond repair, yet—

The thought of losing never even crossed his mind.

Time was on his side.

Slash!

Slash!

A cross-shaped wound carved itself into his chest.

Aiden’s dagger struck again, leaving another merciless wound in its wake.

Dark red blood gushed out.

His organs spilled onto the ground in a wet, sickening heap.

“Guhh—!” Pierre let out a ragged, choking sound before collapsing onto his back. But within just five seconds—he was alive again.

“I told you, didn’t I? It’s useless. I’m immortal.”

Rising to his feet, Pierre let out a manic cackle.

Aiden’s expression remained calm—

But that was just an act.

Deep down, he had to be despairing.

No matter how many times he struck, Pierre wouldn’t die.

“I’ll admit, you’re strong. But in the end, the victory is mine. Eventually, you’ll tire out, and when that happens… you’ll be my plaything.”

“Oh? You really think things will go your way?”

“And why wouldn’t they?”

“Because I just figured out your secret.”

Slice!

A chilling arc sliced through the air.

In the blink of an eye, Pierre’s head was gone.

‘Idiot, ’ he sneered internally.

He could try hundreds—no, thousands of times.

It won’t change a thing.

Pierre was about to scoff when he suddenly stiffened.

Something was different.

Aiden was walking toward him—reaching out—

He grabbed hold of Pierre’s jester mask and tore it off.

“You’re the real body, aren’t you?” Aiden studied the mask in his hand, his voice steady.

“……!”

Pierre’s eyes widened in sheer panic.

Aiden had seen through his secret—his so-called immortality.

“Fakes like you always follow the same pattern,” Aiden mused. “You create a puppet, let it take the hits, and make it revive endlessly. When you think about it, you’re no different from an undead lich.”

“P-please…! I was wrong! Have mercy!” Pierre dropped all pretense and begged shamelessly.

If the mask was destroyed, it was all over. He had to stop that at any cost.

“A jester who clings to life so desperately—how can you expect to make anyone laugh?”

“I can’t make them laugh if I’m dead! Just this once—please, show me mercy…!”

“How dull. Is begging really the grand finale of your performance?”

“No! The grand finale is… your defeat! Kee-hee-hee!”

Pierre suddenly burst into laughter.

With all his might, he leaped forward.

Snap!

The mask latched onto Aiden’s face.

“From now on, you’re my puppet.”

*  *  *

Pierre dove deep into Aiden’s subconscious.

Deeper—

And deeper still.

He passed through countless layers of memories, until he finally reached—

A graveyard.

A full moon hung in the pitch-black sky.

Endless rows of tombstones stretched across the land.

Whoooosh…

The wind howled, eerie and bone-chilling.

This was the deepest layer of Aiden’s mind—

The place where the child who could protect nothing resided.

And sure enough, the child was there.

A boy sat curled up like a pill bug, his small body trembling.

If he could just send that boy away—

Aiden’s body would be his to control.

That monstrous strength that had overwhelmed him… would become his own.

A disaster turned into an opportunity.

“Hey, Aiden. Want to go play with me?”

Pierre took on a human form and approached the boy.

His voice dripped with sickly sweetness.

Snap!

He flicked his fingers, and a candy appeared in his hand.

Pierre held it out to the child, waiting—

Until finally, the boy lifted his head.

His eyes—

Dark as an abyss.

The boy slowly rose to his feet.

His small hand reached out—

As if to take the candy.

But instead—

He grabbed Pierre’s wrist.

Pierre tried to pull away—

But he couldn’t.

‘What… what’s going on?’

“How foolish,” the boy said, his voice resonating like a deep, endless chasm.

Pierre’s soul quivered violently.

“W-who are you…?”

“The beginning and the end of all things.”

“I’m asking—who the hell are you?!”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Pierre didn’t even have time to scream.

The darkness devoured him whole.

He was no longer himself—

Just another mindless servant.

And in that moment, he finally understood.

The truth of ‘him.’

And that from the very start—

The moment he had stood against Aiden—

His death had already been decided.

*  *  *

“The jester is dead,” a voice spoke.

A creature—a grotesque insect.

“A sovereign… even if he was a lower one, he still had a title. And now he’s dead?”

Another voice responded—a parasite, an infected one.

“Scan for his energy. He’s completely gone.”

“You’re right… But how? Who could’ve killed him?”

“No idea. Neither of us can peer into another sovereign’s domain.”

“Ha! That fool. Always causing trouble. And now he went and got himself killed.”

The insect chuckled.

The jester had been an idiot. He had foolishly tried to meddle in the mortal realm.

And for what?

To ‘bring joy to humans’—what utter nonsense.

The other sovereigns had warned him, but he hadn’t listened.

And now, he had met his end in the most pitiful way.

“Could another sovereign have killed him?”

“Unlikely. We all know the consequences of fighting among ourselves.”

“Then… was it a human?”

“That’s the most probable explanation.”

“Well, isn’t that interesting? The jester, who never made anyone laugh, finally became the punchline of his own joke,” the parasite’s voice was light, almost amused.

“This isn’t something to laugh about,” the insect warned. “A sovereign was taken down by a human. That’s a serious threat.”

“The jester was weak. He got what he deserved.”

“No matter how weak he was, a sovereign losing to a human is impossible. The opponent must have possessed something special.”

“In that case… isn’t this a good thing?”

“Explain.”

“The vessel for the Overlord might have just revealed itself.”

“…That’s an interesting take,” the insect gave a slow nod.

“We should watch the situation unfold. Perhaps… the era of chaos is upon us.”

*  *  *

Vrrrrrrr—

A low hum echoed as the fabric of space split apart—

And two men stepped back into reality.

Aiden and the master had escaped from the Chaos Realm.

The clearing was silent—so silent it felt desolate.

The only things that greeted them were the cold wind and the corpse of an old mage.

“Aiden, you’re really okay, right?” the master looked at Aiden with concern.

Aiden was still wearing the jester’s mask, and the master worried that his mind had been consumed by the jester.

“There’s no problem,” Aiden said, removing the mask.

“That thing didn’t try anything on you?”

“It tried, but it didn’t work on me.”

Aiden shrugged.

He looked down at the mask in his hand.

Unlike before, he could no longer sense any soul within it.

That was only natural…

Because he had devoured it whole.

Originally, Aiden had planned to destroy the mask and absorb only the death qi.

But the mask had made a stupid mistake.

It tried to take control of his mind.

It had thrown itself into the fire, so he had simply let it burn.

“I never want to go through something like that again. I never imagined such a horrific world could exist,” the master shook his head.

“That place… you said it was called the Chaos Realm?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think? Should we preemptively regulate the Chaos Realm for the sake of the Human Realm?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?”

“They’re not particularly interested in this side. At least, not yet.”

As Aiden had absorbed the jester’s soul, he had also gained some knowledge about the Chaos Realm.

“If they ever reach out toward the Human Realm, we can deal with them then. I can handle it myself.”

“So, you’re saying you’re stronger than the Chaos Realm?”

“Yes. There’s one troublesome existence, but aside from that, I can take care of the rest.”

It wasn’t arrogance.

It was a conclusion drawn from a cold, rational analysis.

At some point—he wasn’t sure exactly when—Aiden had stopped imagining the possibility of his own defeat.

“Just how strong are you?”

“It’s better if you don’t know. Do you want the mask?”

“What kind of abilities does it have?”

“Something interesting.”

Aiden put the mask back on.

And then—something astonishing happened!

From head to toe, every inch of Aiden transformed.

He became identical to the master, as if he were a perfect doppelgänger.

The only way to tell them apart was by their clothes.

“How does it look? Feels real, doesn’t it?” even his voice had changed to match the master’s exactly.

“Hey, that’s creepy. Stop it.”

“Alright.”

As Aiden removed the mask, he reverted to his original form.

“So, are you taking it or not? It’s a useful item for manipulation.”

“It creeps me out. I don’t want it.”

“I don’t particularly need it either.”

Aiden looked at the mask for a moment before storing it in his subspace.

It was a remarkable item, no doubt—one that could perfectly mimic someone else, down to their voice and mannerisms.

But this mask…

It would have been a treasure for Assassin Aiden, but for Retired Aiden, it was meaningless.

He had no missions to carry out.

No reason to disguise himself.

“Anyway, thanks. If it weren’t for you, I’d have died a meaningless death in that desert.”

“As long as you know. If you ever run into trouble again, just call me.”

“I don’t want to keep dragging a retired man back into guild business.”

“I can help you as a friend, not as a thief.”

“…That’s right. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” the master chuckled.

“So, are you dropping the formal speech now?”

“No. That would be uncomfortable for me. You don’t need formal speech to be friends.”

“Fair enough. Let’s head back.”

“Alright.”

The two of them started walking side by side.

Though they didn’t say anything, neither used any special footwork.

They left the clearing at a leisurely pace, as if taking a stroll.

Neither of them spoke.

The silence between them grew heavier.

‘Is this just how it is?’

Aiden smiled wryly to himself.

Whenever they met, their conversations always revolved around missions.

Never anything personal.

Aiden had only ever seen himself as a wheel, and the master, the coachman. He had never been particularly interested in the person holding the reins.

But what about the master?

“Between you and him, neither of you really understands the other. You’re both terrible at relationships.”

“Then take the first step this time. Not a full step—just half.”

Carl’s advice suddenly came to mind.

Unlike Aiden…

Maybe the master had actually wanted to be closer to him.

Maybe he just didn’t know how.

He could manipulate entire continents, yet had no talent for building personal relationships.

That was the true nature of the master, perhaps.

Once that thought occurred to him, the master almost seemed… endearing.

No one in this world was perfect.

Everyone had areas where they struggled.

The only difference was whether they showed those weaknesses or kept them hidden.

The real question now was…

How could he take that half-step closer to the master?

It didn’t take him long to decide.

“Master.”

“What?”

“Tell me about your first love.”

“…Huh? Where did that come from?”

“I just suddenly got curious.”

“I never expected you to be curious about that.”

“Whoever managed to steal the heart of the Thieves Guild Master must have been one incredible person.”

At Aiden’s teasing remark, the master burst into laughter.

His expression softened considerably.

Aiden was now certain—this was the right approach.

Building a friendship?

It wasn’t that complicated.

All it took was curiosity and a willingness to ask questions.

During his time working at the tavern, Aiden had seen it countless times—strangers striking up conversations and becoming friends simply by asking about each other.

“You really want to hear it?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”

“But we’ll need something first.”

“What do we need?”

The master smirked and winked.

“A handkerchief. You won’t be able to hear this story without shedding tears.”
 

To be continued

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